Temperance
by darth-healer
Summary: Padme didn't expect Anakin to come home so soon. She wasn't prepared for this.


Sometimes the carpet felt soft like onion grass underneath Padme's feet. If she imagined hard enough, she could pretend the sky was hung with three moons and that instead of a cacophony of ships zipping past her window, it was a brook just like the ones back on Naboo.

She didn't do this often – pretend. It was unseemly for someone who was about to be a mother, and certainly for a senator.

Wistfully, she pressed her fingers against the cool glass. The Clone Wars were coming to an end and soon enough her husband would return to her. She moved her hand to her belly, which was still flat though it was only a matter of time before she would begin to show. She could admit to herself that she was nervous to tell Anakin she was pregnant.

She hadn't expected to have a child so soon in her life. With the war ending, the galaxy would be in an awful political state and Padme had always taken the initiative to pick up those pieces. She owed that to her people back on Naboo. But her baby, she thought as she looked at her reflection in the glass. Her baby needed her, too, and perhaps Naboo was the best place to raise a child.

She could picture it now: a little baby boy cooing at her as she rocked him in her arms near the Gallo Mountains where the air was fresher than anything here in the Core Worlds. They could live near the palace in Theed so he could run around the courtyards and play on the very same hills where Padme had fallen in love with Anakin.

But she knew this was impossible. She had too many responsibilities here in Coruscant. With the war ending and the general population unsettled by the Chancellor's erratic and often condemning behavior, Padme was needed in the Delegation of 2,000. Her duties as a senator had never been more pressing.

Again, Padme reached her hand up and pressed her palm against the window. At least the view on Coruscant wasn't bad. Maybe the baby would grow to like it here.

Padme heard his heavy boots thudding against the tiles behind her. He always did that – purposefully making his entrance loud so as not to startle her. She mostly appreciated it, but today she felt patronized.

"You're back," she said, not turning to face him quite yet. Would he be able to sense that she was pregnant before she told him? "I didn't expect you back so soon. The Chancellor said you'd be gone for another week at least."

"Palpatine doesn't know I'm here," Anakin said. His voice was smooth and steady, but she sensed a note of trepidation in his tone.

She spun to face him, pressing back against the window. She shifted her skirt, fisting the fabric in her hands. Anakin, too, smoothed down his tunic. He seemed nervous. They saw each other so infrequently during the war that it seemed absurd that they wouldn't be already wrapped in each other's arms.

"Is something wrong, Anakin?"

The barest hint of a smile played at his lips. She was used to this expression, the vague amusement he often displayed for her.

"How could something be wrong?" he asked. "The war is ending. I can finally spend time with my wife again."

Padme felt the heat in her cheeks, and though she was pleased by his words she was annoyed by her own reaction to them. She had played the part of blushing bride already. There was no need to play coy, no need to be bashful around the man she had committed her life to.

But Anakin's smile widened when he caught sight of her reddened cheeks. He took another step toward her and she leaned farther back into the glass.

"There's something different about you, Padme."

She looked up into his eyes, noting the additional crow's feet that had sprung up there, carved by years of enduring war and the Jedi's biddings. She felt the sudden urge to reach her hand up and smooth those wrinkles away as if that simple gesture could erase the heartache nascent underneath.

"I got a haircut," she replied, hoping her wouldn't notice the slight tremor in her voice. It wasn't a lie – that should have been obvious enough. She had indeed chopped her hair off, letting it hang just above her shoulders now. It was more fitting for a political figure, she had decided. Away from Naboo, she didn't feel the pressure to wear those elaborate hairstyles and eccentric dresses.

"I see," he said, the smile on his face growing wider. He took another step forward. "It suits you."

He placed his hand on the sofa, the one thing that remained between them still after all their time apart. If Anakin understood why she wanted to play this game of cat and mouse, he made no indication of it. Though gauging from the predatory gleam in his eye, she assumed he intended to enjoy it rather than question it.

She shrunk back further, her whole body rigid against the window now. If he touched her, would he sense his child in her womb? Could he feel that life with the Force like he could feel so many other things?

"But that's not what I'm talking about," Anakin continued, circumventing the sofa. He was now only a few feet away. "You seem… more beautiful than I remember. But then again, you always seem that way after I've been away for so long."

"I've started importing my beauty cream from Naboo," she said. "It's much better for my skin."

He laughed. "That must be it," he said, though the sarcasm in his tone suggested it was not it. Still, his happiness was infectious and so she couldn't help but smile at him – the first smile since he'd entered the room.

"I've missed you, Padme," he said. Another step forward.

"I've missed you, too, Ani," she said, even though she wished she'd had more time to prepare for this conversation. If he could just go away, back to wherever he had been. She could have more time to rehearse what she would say to him, more time to feel comfortable with her pregnancy.

He took another step, closing the distance between them. He put his hands against the glass on either side of her face – something he knew she hated because she didn't like to feel trapped. But she knew why he did it. He wanted to know she trusted him, that she didn't feel trapped with him. And maybe if it had been a different day, a different mood she was in, she would have pushed his hands away. Perhaps she would have fisted her hand in his tunic and pulled him into a kiss with aggression that showed her displeasure.

But today she was pregnant and Anakin didn't know. So she allowed him to do as he pleased. He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth. She was stiff beneath him, but she kissed him back anyway.

"Padme," he murmured as he pulled back away from her. He dropped one hand to her arm and gripped her fingers. She was grateful that his robotic fingers couldn't sense what his organic ones could. His other hand remained on the glass beside her neck. "You're not acting like yourself."

She placed her hands on his chest – a buffer between them. She could push him away or pull him closer, but for now she was content with where he was.

"I have to tell you something, Anakin," she said.

His brow furrowed. The predatory gleam vanished. His concern was palpable and it gave Padme enough encouragement to continue.

"I'm pregnant."

He was eerily silent in response, his features frozen as if carved from stone. His brow twitched. A sigh escaped his lips, but a happy one Padme was elated to see. His smile returned, his eyes crinkling under its weight. He ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"Pregnant?" he croaked. "I'm going to be a father?"

Padme nodded, relief flooding her body. It could so easily have turned out worse than this. He could have been angry. Maybe he should have been, because now they had a real problem on their hands.

Anakin laughed again, this time a way to expel the new, weird energy he felt rather than to express amusement.

"I can't believe it," he said. "Is it a boy or a girl? Do you know? Have you been to a doctor yet? I want to go with you."

Padme swallowed. She hadn't expected this response from him. "I don't know, Anakin," she said. She frowned, staring at his chest.

"Hey," he said soothingly, running his hand down the length of her arm to grasp her fingers. "What's the matter?" She could already picture him with her child, nursing a scraped knee, drying dampened cheeks.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

Anakin frowned, too. She didn't need to say anything more. He understood. The Jedi council would not approve of this. They would no longer be able to keep their marriage a secret. It would jeopardize Padme's career. Anakin could be expelled from the Jedi order. It would change everything about their lives. They would no longer be able to effect change the way they so desperately wanted to. The galaxy could no longer be theirs to protect.

He let go of her hands and grabbed hold of her shoulders. She could feel the near bruising force behind his fingers. "Listen to me, Padme," he said. "I don't want you to worry about anything."

"But, Anakin—"

"Everything will work out fine," he insisted. "I will speak to Obi-Wan. Maybe he can help us."

Padme shook her head. She trusted Obi-Wan, but his loyalty was to the Jedi. If they turned their backs on Anakin, Obi-Wan would have no choice but to do the same. "You can't tell Obi-Wan," she said.

"Padme, look at me."

She looked up into his face. She felt the hot sting of tears prickling behind her eyes, but she didn't let them blur her vision. She didn't let them fall.

"Padme, we're going to have a baby," he said. "A perfect baby. We can go back to Naboo if you want. We can raise it there. You can work in Theed, can't you? I know you miss home. Isn't this what you want?"

"But Anakin, what about you?" she demanded, her voice angrier than she expected it to be. "The Jedi won't allow—"

"The Jedi don't control me."

Again, Padme frowned. She crossed her arms across her chest and Anakin let go of her. "What will you do?" she asked. "When we're on Naboo?"

"That's not for you to worry about," he said. She scowled at him. "Padme, I will take care of you, okay? I will make sure that you and the baby will be fine."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Anakin!"

He pressed his lips together in a tight line. He clenched his hand into a fist. Padme could see he was trying to temper his frustration. He brought his robotic hand up to the window again, the metal fingers clicking against the glass. He took another step toward her, the distance between them shrinking to a mere inch.

It was an intimidation tactic. Padme recognized it for what it was. He would never hurt her, but he could. They both knew it.

"What are you worried about, Padme?"

"Our baby is a blessing, Anakin," she said. "But it's a curse, too. If the Jedi realize that you're the father, they'll—"

"They'll do nothing," Anakin said fiercely. She wondered what he would want for their baby. Would he want to train it to be a Jedi like he was? Or would he want to avoid that particularly fate for his child? After all, the Jedi had forbidden him from loving her. That particular tenant of their teachings was irrefutable. How could Anakin deny his child a love like his with Padme?

Padme sighed and shut her eyes. She felt Anakin's hand on the back of her head, pulling her into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, tucking her head beneath his chin. She felt a warm teardrop clinging to her lashes. It was the only one she allowed to escape.

"We won't tell anyone I'm the father," Anakin said. Padme felt the vibrations of his voice in his chest. She turned her head, laying her ear flat against his chest so she could hear his heartbeat.

"Okay."

"We can figure out the rest later," he said. He squeezed her tighter. "This is good news, you know. We're going to have a baby."

She pulled away from him, smiling through the bitterness she felt caking itself around her heart. "I know," she said.

"Come on," he said, turning her toward the bedroom and walking alongside her. "We should be celebrating. You know I love you, don't you?"

"I know," she said, because it was the only thing she was truly certain of. "I love you, too."


End file.
